Chapter214 – A walking hormone
It was already past eleven when they arrived. Clarissa slipped into her slippers and headed straight for her bedroom. Atticus followed instinctively, only for the door to slam in his face and lock with a decisive click.
One door couldn’t keep him out if he truly wanted in—but he knew barging in would push her too far. So, reluctantly, he turned back to his own room.
He showered off the day’s heat, but when he finally lay down, he found no rest. It was the first time they’d slept apart since becoming lovers. Without her scent, her warmth curled against him, he tossed and turned, restless.
Irritatingly, images of that afternoon in the car replayed, vivid as ever. His throat dried, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The memory alone was enough to make his body ache again. With a curse, he shoved off the covers and dragged himself under the cold spray of the shower, trying to cool the fire clawing under his skin.
In her room, Clarissa had already showered. Her calves felt better after the massage he’d given her earlier, though a blister on her heel throbbed dully. She sterilized a needle, pricked it, and dabbed on ointment with a hiss of pain. Flat shoes for the next few days—there was no helping it.
As she tended the wound, Atticus’s face kept flashing across her mind.
What’s he doing now?
She shook her head quickly, banishing the thought. No. She couldn’t soften this time. If she let him off so easily, he’d just drag her to exhaustion again, and she had work tomorrow.
She closed the medicine box, slipped into bed, and pulled the covers up tight.
The mattress felt unbearably empty without him. Funny how quickly she’d grown used to sharing it, even though they hadn’t been together long.
Maybe there really was some invisible pull between them—something magnetic and undeniable. Just thinking about it made her cheeks warm.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath, lips curling in the faintest smile. “You’d better reflect on yourself for once.”
Tucking herself deeper under the blanket, she drifted off quickly, sleeping soundly until dawn.
The next morning, she padded into the bathroom—and stopped short at the sight of the bloodstains. Relief washed through her.
They’d been reckless, many times, and she hadn’t stopped worrying that she’d end up unlucky. But now, with her period finally here, the knot in her chest loosened.
For the first time in days, she exhaled fully, her lips curving in a small smile.
When Clarissa finally came out of her room, she was met with the rich aroma of food wafting through the apartment.
Atticus was at the table, sipping tea. He’d been free from work lately, idle enough to spend his days experimenting in the kitchen.
The moment he saw her, his lips curved into an easy smile. “You’re awake. Come have some tea.”
Clarissa didn’t so much as glance his way. She brushed past him, heading straight into the kitchen.
Her outfit caught his eye instantly: a cream-colored sweater paired with a knee-length skirt slit at the side, diamond watch flashing faintly on her wrist. The skirt swayed with her stride, showing flashes of long, smooth legs. Intellectual elegance wrapped in subtle seduction.
Atticus felt his throat tighten. After a night of cold showers, his barely-quelled hunger came roaring back. He couldn’t stop himself from rising to follow.
Clarissa ignored him, brewing herself a pot of rose tea in silence. The second he saw it, Atticus understood, and slid an arm around her waist. “Are you on your period?”
She brushed his hand off without a word, carrying the teapot into the living room.
He stepped forward, catching her wrist. “Are you still mad at me?”
“No,” she said evenly.
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m hungry,” Clarissa replied coolly. “Am I not allowed to have breakfast?”
His expression softened at once. “Of course. What do you want? I’ll cook.”
“Whatever’s on the table is fine. I don’t have much time—I need to get to work.”
With that, she sat down and poured her tea.
Breakfast passed in silence. Clarissa scrolled through her phone while Atticus flipped through the paper. Neither spoke, but she could feel his gaze burning into her the entire time.
When she stood to leave, he finally snapped. Catching her hand, he pulled her into his arms. “I’ll drive you.”
“I’ll drive myself,” she said calmly, tugging at his grip. “Let go, I’m going to be late.”
“You won’t. You’re still mad at me.” His arms tightened, his voice low and coaxing. “Clarissa, we just got together and you already want to fight?”
She almost laughed at his shamelessness. He was usually so composed—she hadn’t expected him to lose patience this quickly. Honestly, she’d assumed she could keep him at arm’s length for a few more days.
But his wounded expression made her lips twitch despite herself. Reaching up, she pinched his cheek lightly. “What’s with that face? Are you sulking?”
“Clarissa, are you really going to stay mad over something so small? If anyone else heard, they’d laugh. I’m a man—how could I possibly resist when the woman I love is teasing me?”
Her heart gave a treacherous thump. She looked away from his burning gaze. “Fine. Then promise me you won’t do it again.”
It wasn’t that she hated sleeping with him. On the contrary, she enjoyed it. But his relentless, overstimulating methods were too much—her body simply couldn’t take it.
Atticus pressed his lips together, silent.
Her stomach dropped. She knew that look. “Atticus! You bastard—you still don’t realize you crossed the line!”
She shoved at his chest, furious. But he caught her wrist, pinning her lightly against the doorframe.
“Let me go!”
He gazed down at her, amusement flickering in his eyes. Patience, he reminded himself. She was still new to love, still learning. He’d just gotten greedy.
“Okay,” he murmured, voice brushing her ear. “I promise.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”
He nuzzled against her cheek, breath warm. “Really. I won’t touch you like that unless you agree.”
He’d make her beg for him herself.
Relieved, Clarissa finally relaxed. “That’s better.”
Atticus laced their fingers together. “Then let me drive you, hm?”
“Go change, then.”
He stole a quick kiss on her cheek before slipping back into his room. A few minutes later, they were in the car.
When they pulled up outside her company, Clarissa opened the door—only to see Atticus climbing out too.
Her brows knit. “What are you doing?”
He strode around to her side and took her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m still on vacation. I’d get bored at home, so I thought I’d keep you company.”
Clarissa glared at him. “Who drags their boyfriend to work?”
Atticus smirked. “Aren’t you the boss? Don’t you get that kind of privilege?”
“That’s even worse. People will think I’m abusing my power for personal gain.”
Atticus grinned mischievously, tugging her hand as if to beg like a child. “Clarissa, please let me stay. I just want to see you. It’s too lonely without you at home. Can you really bear to leave me by myself? You already tortured me last night—kept me up until morning—and now you won’t even let me look at you?”
“Okay, okay,” Clarissa cut him off, exasperated.
“Come here.”
A flash of triumph flickered in his eyes. He swooped forward, caught her hand, and laced his fingers through hers.
Clarissa gave a token struggle, but then sighed and let him have his way.
Of course, their hand-holding didn’t go unnoticed.
Everyone nearby perked up, eyes widening as they stared at Atticus.
Clarissa, however, was soon whisked away by Oriana.
A cluster of young women gathered around her, whispering excitedly.
“Miss Clarissa, is that really your boyfriend?”
“He’s so handsome! I’ve never seen anyone that good-looking in my life.”
“He looks so young… and you’re telling me he’s a medical examiner? That’s insane! He barely looks twenty. God, he’s gorgeous.”
It took Clarissa no small amount of effort to suppress their squeals and put on her “boss” face. Only then did the gaggle of girls reluctantly scatter back to their work.
Once she reached her studio space, Clarissa quickly got busy, while Atticus—as promised—behaved himself, lounging quietly below the studio floor.
Even so, his mere presence caused chaos.
Upton finally frowned. “Miss Clarissa, it’s too noisy here.”
Clarissa followed his gaze and immediately understood. “I’ll send someone to clear the area.”
Upton said nothing more, which was as good as agreement.
With the issue resolved, the tension lifted. Clarissa announced a lunch break, then strolled over to Atticus, sinking down beside him with a sigh. “Congratulations—you’re famous again.”
This man… always a walking hormone.
Atticus had seen the way her colleagues whispered, sneaking glances at him, and he smirked knowingly. “So, what were you all talking about?”
Clarissa thought back to their giddy chatter, and her lips curved up despite herself.
“What are you smiling at?” he pressed.
“They said you were so handsome they couldn’t close their legs. They begged me to invite you to dinner tonight so they could admire you up close. Oh, and apparently, if you ever starred in a drama, you’d be an international sensation—and they’d be your number-one fans.”
Her smile lit up her face, eyes sparkling, teeth white as pearls.
Atticus’s gaze burned into her, and he leaned in close, his voice low and velvet-smooth against the noise of the street. “I don’t care about them. I just want *you* to be unable to close your legs. The way you are in bed.”
His breath, warm and laced with his intoxicating scent, brushed her cheek and ear. That husky undertone turned his words wicked, dripping with raw sensuality.
Color rushed to Clarissa’s face. Her porcelain skin bloomed pink, delicate as a cherry blossom.
She quickly turned away, flustered. But the air between them was already thick with heat, and no matter how hard she tried, her mind betrayed her with flashes of last night.
Atticus’s smile deepened at her shyness. Sliding behind her, he caught her hand, lifted it gently, and pressed a kiss to her pale knuckles. “A drama’s fine with me—as long as you’re the lead actress. But the content might get banned…”
“Atticus!”
Mortified, Clarissa slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say more outrageous things. Her cheeks burned hotter, shame and thrill mixing in her veins.
A man this dangerously handsome, whispering filth in that refined tone—it was enough to unravel anyone.
She coughed, trying to steady herself, refusing to fall for his wicked charm. “How long is your vacation?”
“About a month.”
Her brows lifted. “That long?”
He chuckled. “I wanted to spend time with you—travel, relax, have fun. But here you are, straight back to work.”
Clarissa softened with guilt. “I didn’t realize you’d be free for so long. Is it going to cause problems?”
“Not really,” he said easily. “But when my master comes back, he’ll probably want to kill me. You’d better protect me.”
Clarissa’s lips twitched. “Phoenix is usually kind to you. Don’t exaggerate.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen her when the curtain falls,” Atticus murmured with a cryptic grin.
“What did Phoenix do?” she asked suspiciously.
“We’ll talk about it later.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “Come on, let’s eat.”